24
by Musings of a Shaken Mind
Summary: When his world in plunged into danger and mystery, who can Edward turn to? And when Bella and their children disappear, can he reach them in time to save them? He's only got 24 hours... AH, AU. ExB.
1. 9am, 1st January 2009

**Heey! Well, this is my new story. I'm pretty excited about this, tbh... It's set over 24 hours, and I'll (hopefully) post a chapter a day, each spanning one hour. I did hope to make this one a bit longer-- but all of this drabble writing is having a bit of a negative effect on me-- it means I can, and do, condense whole chapters into less than a thousand words, making for a really short story. Sorry, guys.**

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**2 4  
A **_**Twilight**_** FanFiction  
By Becky Scarlett-Cullen**

**Chapter 1**

_--"Life is an interesting journey."_

**

* * *

****Hour one—9am, January 1****st****, 2009**

**EPOV**

I wake up to a soft brushing across my cheek and smile, though my eyes stay closed. I love the way that my Bella wakes me up every morning. I am so lucky to have her; she is my everything, my one-true-love, and my soul mate. I love her so much. As I roll over, and open my eyes, they meet a pair of pretty green eyes. They're huge in a tiny face, and beautiful. And they're exactly like mine. But it's not Bella… I could have sworn it was her who had kissed my cheek.

I smile at my youngest daughter, and then the breath is knocked out of me as two more small explosions jump on top of me. My sons—Jack and Sam. I laugh, and scoop them all up, spotting Bella, who is laughing at me from across the ridiculously extravagant room.

The kids resemble us greatly. Jack has Bella's beautiful brown hair and my eyes. He's six and the oldest—and he's developing a cheeky streak. Emmett, my brother, couldn't be more proud of him. Sam should really look like Bella—he has her brown hair and lovely brown eyes—but he still manages to look like me. And Lexy, our only daughter, has my bronze curls and green eyes, but somehow resembles Bells.

I love my family to bits; I couldn't be more proud of them. I'd do anything for them, even if it meant sacrificing my own life, and I know Bella feels the same way. They're my world, my everything, and if anything were to happen to them, I would be devastated…

And so begins another day in the Masen household. Well, not just another day—it's January 1st, after all. And we're in London, staying in a fancy hotel—we've been visiting my family over Christmas, as have the rest of the family. Emmett and Alice, my siblings. Emmett's wife Rosalie and their children Matt and Niamh, Alice's husband Jasper and their new baby Marie.

Our flight back to the USA leaves this evening—although it's not exactly just any flight. Air Force one will be our mode of transportation—one of the many perks of being President-elect. Rose, Emmett, Jazz and Alice will be coming with us of course, on their way back home. They live in the US too—even my parents were brought up there, though the moved to London when we all went to university.

But as soon as we're back in Washington state, it'll be crazy again. We've still got a lot of packing to do, in preparation for the big move in two weeks to the most famous house in America. The other Washington, for that matter.

In just two weeks, I'll be the president, and the little monsters climbing all over my will be the first family. It's a scary though, but it's true… and it's something we're all going to have to get used to. My family are pleased enough. They were ecstatic when the polls came in, and I was announced as the next President.

Back in the present, I pout at Bella, who laughs and moves over. As soon as she's close enough, I press my lips to hers, to disgusted noises, courtesy of my children. I laugh, and push them away, climbing out of bed. Pulling Lexy, who screams delightedly, onto my shoulders, I run downstairs with her, the boys running after us, and Bella bringing up the rear. Sitting my daughter on the bench, we throw together the ingredients for pancakes, and Lex helps to stir the thick mixture. Bella has disappeared with the boys, presumably to get them changed, and Lexy giggles as I flip the pancakes high.

I shove the pancakes onto a plate, and call for Bella and the boys to come down.

There's no answer. I call again, and wait for a response, smiling distractedly at Lexy as she wipes floury fingers over my pyjamas.

Leaving my daughter in the suite's kitchen, I run through to the kids' room, and poke my head around the door.

But there's no one there.

I frown—Bella would usually have told me if she was heading out. But perhaps she'd just forgotten.

I head back to the kitchen, and it takes minute to realise that Lexy has gone now, too. I frown. This is sort of odd… but I'm sure she's just crawled off, and is hiding from me somewhere…

I call their names again, but there's no reply. This is probably Bella's idea of a joke. I might as well play along.

I cover the cooling pancakes with a cloth to keep them warmer, and set off to search the suite. Our magnificent Christmas tree still stands there. Bella and the kids decorated it on Christmas Eve, when we reached here. It still looks great, and the smell of the pine fills the whole suite. There's no one in the living area, and no one in the kitchen. I frown again, but go through to the various different bedrooms, searching through all of them.

The apartment is empty. This is really… weird.

Abandoning all pretense at a game, I reach for my cell and ring the familiar number. Bella. But no one picks up—in fact I hear her ring tone, until it falls silent again. It's in her handbag, with her coat. That's odd—she would have taken her bag with her if she left the apartment.

But she's not here.

Taking out my phone, I dial Alice's number.


	2. 10am, 1st January 2009

**I was asked a couple of questions about this story—I'll answer them here. I do always appreciate questions, they're very welcome!**

**1. Yes, it is All-human. I did say that, in the 's necessary-- if Bella was taken, and Edward a vampire, he could have her back in like, ten minutes.  
**

**2. Regarding Breaking Dawn, Jacob and the Devil Spawn, I hated all of them. None will have a part in my story, quite frankly. I thought Renesmee was always a bit half-arsed, which is one of my reasons for keeping this all-human—I have nothing against Bella and Edward having kids, I just don't think that it worked within the parameters of Ms. Meyer's novel. But who am I to judge? Just a pathetic fan… Breaking Dawn was a disappointment. Even the much-anticipated fight scene was wimpy. I've come to expect so much more from the villainous Volturi… **

**And Jacob? I never really liked him. Alright, so he was okay before he became a dog, but he just became way too cocky and arrogant. He just pisses me off, generally. The one exception to that being his chapter titles in BD, which were pretty cool. But apart from that… the whole imprint-on-a-baby thing sort of creeps me out, too. But whatever. So he and Renesmee wo't be making an appearance, unless anyone can persuade me to use them... there's a challenge for you...

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**

**2 4  
A **_**Twilight**_** FanFiction  
By Becky Scarlett-Cullen**

**Chapter 2**_  
--"You never know where it'll take you."

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_**Hour two—10am, January 1****st****, 2009**

**EPOV**

I dial Alice's number. I'm a little anxious, naturally… I can't help but worry.

My youngest sister picks up, and she sounds like she's just got out of bed. It I wasn't so worried, I might have found it funny.

"_Hello?"_

"Ally, it's Edward—"

"_Aw, hey, Eddy. Happy new year."_

I frown, momentarily distracted. "How much exactly did you drink last night, Alice?"

She pauses, and I roll my eyes. Typical Alice. I have to keep reminding myself that she's not some rebellious teenager any more, she's married. And she has a daughter. Still… some things never change. Like Alice's partying.

"_Not that much. Anyway, that's not what you called about."_

"No. Do you know where Bella is?"

Alice snickers down the line. _"What, you've lost her? That was careless, Eddy."_

"I'm serious, Alice. She's disappeared. Is she around there?"

"_No. I haven't seen her. Sorry."_

"If you see her, let me know, yeah?"

"_I'll talk to Jazz about it too, if you like."_

Jasper's the head of my security. He has a military background, which makes him ideal. And the fact that he's married to my sister is great, too—he's always easy to reach.

"That would be great, Al."

"_No problem, Ed."_

"Thanks."

"_S'alright. Bye."_

She hangs up. That told me nothing.

I try Rosalie instead. She gets on well with Bella—that's probably where she is. I dial the number, feeling hopeless. What are the chances of Rose seeing Bella, especially at this time in the morning? My sister-in-law and brother won't even be up, yet.

But I have to try, and so I do, keying in the last number and lifting the phone back up to my ear.

No-one answers. That doesn't mean they're gone too, though—it just means they're asleep. Silently, I curse them. I know it's not fair—this is hardly their fault, after all—but the worry for my family seems to be messing with my head. I slam the expensive phone closed, and toss it across the room in frustration.

Anxiously, I run a hand through my hair. Bella's not hurt. Bella's fine. And so are the kids.

In a last ditch attempt, I retrieve the phone and dial my father's number. Perhaps they'll know where my family has apparently disappeared to.

"Dad?"

"_Edward, how are you? Happy new year, son."_

"Uh… thanks. I'm… well, I'm a little worried, actually… you haven't seen Bella, have you? Or the kids?"

I can almost hear he frown in my father's voice when he speaks again. He's worried too, because he knows Bella. He knows that this isn't like her. At all.

"_No, I'm sorry… she hasn't been here…"_

I close my eyes in frustration. I can't think of anywhere else she would be—her family is still in America. Dad seems to sense what I'm feeling.

"_When did you last see her, Edward?"_

"Uh…" I think back. Just before breakfast. She disappeared with Jack and Sam. I relay this information to my father, who pauses, considering.

"_What about Lexy?"_

"She's gone, too. I went upstairs to find Bella, and then when I came back, she had disappeared as well."

"_Does Jasper know?"_

"Yeah, I called Alice, and she said she'd talk to him. I tried Emmett too, but I assume he and Rose are still asleep or something, because there was no reply." I pause. "Do you… do you really think that this is a matter of security?"

He hesitates, before speaking again. I guess he doesn't particularly want to upset me.

"_Perhaps… it'd be better to have all of the bases covered anyway though, right?"_

"Do you think they've been…"

I can't bring myself to say it. Kidnapping is a bit of an occupational hazard, for me… but it doesn't make it any easier to accept. The static fills the air between us. Apparently, this is a bad line.

"_It's possible."_

I feel myself begin to panic. My father seems to realise this, and does his best to calm me down.

"_Edward, it's fine. They'll be fine. It's probably not that, anyway…"_

I have to keep repeating that to myself, even after I've hung up, as I do another search of the suite. But I'm definitely alone. Our room is empty. The living area and kitchen are empty, the pancakes cold now, under the cloth. I feel a pang as I see the little wooden spoon, the one that Lexy had been using not so long ago. The bathrooms are empty. I re-enter the children's bedroom… and that's when I see it.

A scrap of paper. It's small enough to be reasonable that I missed it before. I snatch it up; studying the words that are scrawled in a mess hand across the paper, black ink contrasting with the white.

_**You have twenty-four hours. Get to Windsor Castle, and they have a hope. Stay where you are, and they will be killed. Do not dawdle.**_

I stare uncomprehendingly at the words. They swirl across the page, and I have to make myself focus, and they run through my mind again and again. _**They will be killed. They will be killed.**_

My family… my wife, and my children… I could not allow them to be taken like this. This was all of my worst fears being realised, in one fell swoop. But I would not—could not—allow this to happen. I dressed swiftly, running over my options in my mind. They were few, and far between.

But there was only one available to me, and I would take it. No matter the cost.

* * *

**So stuff is getting a bit more exciting, huh? Sorry, this is a bit of a slow-starter. Fortunately, for all of our sanities, it's getting more exciting. I promise. Really. Would I lie to you?**

**Don't answer that.**


	3. 11am, 1st January 2009

**2 4  
A **_**Twilight**_** FanFiction  
By Becky Scarlett-Cullen**

**Chapter 3**_  
--"Peaks and battles;"

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_**Hour three—11am, January 1****st****, 2009**

**EPOV**

Grabbing my coat, wallet and keys I run out of the suite. I sprint along the corridor towards the elevator; completely oblivious to angry cries of annoyance that sound all around me, as I push people out of the way.

These cries are invariably followed by gasps, as my face is recognised, but I ignore them, and race on.

I reach the elegant doors and stab at the button, praying that it's quick…

Ten agonising seconds later, the door opens, and I step in. It's empty, thankfully, and I push the button for the lobby.

The elevator moves painfully slowly. In fact, I've never realised quite how inappropriately slowly it does move. I may have to see someone about that. Comfort in an elevator is of no use whatsoever when you're in a hurry, because your wife and children's lives are on the line.

Mind you, my case is probably fairly unique.

I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose and leaning heavily on the elaborate panelling of the ridiculous elevator. Really, could it go any slower?! But at least it gave me a moment to think. How would I get to Windsor, from the centre of London, on a day like today? I mean sure, it was New Years Day, but London never really took a break. It might as well have been just any another Thursday morning in the city.

I could call for the helicopter, but it wouldn't get here in time. Walking out the front door in this place would mean dealing with the press, which was not something I wanted right at this moment.

Which left two options.

I could potentially climb out of a window, James-Bond-style, steal a fast car, and drive up the hard shoulder or on the Bus Lane. With a roll of my eyes at the utter absurdity of that option, I glance back down at the now-crumpled piece of paper in my hand.

And see that there are more words.

Damn, how could I possibly have missed that before?! Hastily, un-crumple the paper and bring it up for inspection.

_**You have twenty-four hours. Get to Windsor Castle, and they have a hope. Stay where you are, and they will be killed. Do not dawdle.**_

_**Bring no one with you, or their deaths will be sooner, and more painful.**_

Well, that ruled out option number two: security. Normally, I might have scoffed at the threat, but I was not willing to gamble on Bella's life. That was something that I could not—would not—ever do.

There had to be something else. Public transport was awful. The car would mean taking people with me, because apparently, I needed a chauffer,

With a heavy heart, I realise that I'm left with no other option that the ridiculous plan I came up with before. Stealing a car probably would not be a problem—I had grown up with Emmett, after all—and as long as I got a fast one, I could reach there in an hour or so. Depending on the traffic. And it wouldn't exactly be stealing—I'd leave enough money to cover a new car, and insurance. My moral side argues on feebly, but I choose to ignore it. The owner of the car would be fine—a car was just a lump of metal with a price tag attached. But Bella? And their children? They were worth that. In fact, they were worth more than that—they were priceless, after all. What was half a million pounds, either way?

I step out of the elevator as soon as the doors are open, and escape through the less-grand entrance onto Arlington Street. It's not crowded, for once, and I run along the street, thankful. The few people that are here disperse very conveniently, and I am left alone. There are expensive cars parked here, because of the hotel. I see a Bugatti Veyron—that'll do. It's fast. Taking a note of the number plate—I'll have the money sent to the address later—I pick the lock with ease and open the door, half expectant of an alarm. But apparently, the British are far less paranoid than the Americans would be. I climb inside, and prise the panel from the dashboard. This is illegal—but for Bella, I'll do it. I press to wires together, the way my little brother taught me, and almost jump as the car comes to life, the dashboard lighting up. I check the fuel gauge, and to my delight, it's almost full. I pull the car into gear, and back out of the space, feeling very conspicuous—but then it must be impossible to feel inconspicuous in a royal blue Bugatti Veyron.

It's fast. Very fast, as I dodge and weave through the crowds of cars. They seem to move aside as I speed through them. Perhaps it's awe of the car. It certainly stands out, among the fords, and the BMWs.

The journey still seemed long, though. Too long. I was agitated the whole way, worrying about my family. What was happening to them? Where were they? Was this a trick, or were they really there? I was still only maybe halfway across the city centre, and I had to make it out of the city into Windsor. This car was fast, but would it be fast enough? Would I reach them in time?

I had 24 hours, but I had a feeling that this was not the end of this twisted game these people were playing. How far would it go? How long would it be before someone close to me was hurt, or worse?

Inwardly, I cursed. What had made me even go into politics in the first place? Why couldn't I have just stayed in a normal, safe job?

I wished I had a justifiable reason. But, as I raced across London in a stolen car, towards a possible kidnapping situation, I found that I did not.


	4. 12am, 2nd January 2009

**God, I know. Feel free to shout at me. It's been truly ages since I updated. Meh. I hadn't actually realised how long it has been, but... yeah. I have actually been posting, but it's just older stuff. Whatever. Enjoy! (I think.)**

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**2 4  
A **_**Twilight**_** FanFiction  
By Musings of a Shaken Mind**

**Chapter 4

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**_--"twists and turns;"_**  
Hour three—12 noon, January 1****st****, 2009

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****BPOV**

I am terrified. For perhaps the first time in my twenty-six year existence, I am utterly petrified. The rope that binds my wrists chafes at my skin, rubbing it red and raw. The blindfold is rough, made of the same material that gags me. Even my feet are bound tightly up; this attacker seemed to be taking no chances.

A soft whimper reminds me of higher priorities than myself, though. My son is here—just the oldest one, Jack. In a perverse way, I am glad he is here, because he comforts me, even as he sits, curled in my lap—hot, silent tears on his face. But though it comforts me, it also pains me to have him here. I hate that he has to see this, to see me like this. I am supposed to be the comforter, the one who looks after him—and yet here I sit, being comforted by my son.

I stroke his hair with my bound hands, and wish that I could do more for him. I wish that I could have stopped them, fought them off for the sake of my children.

The largest part of my mind, though, wonders where Edward is.

I need him. I've always needed him, since the moment we met. That night we met, so long ago… I was nearly raped on the street, and he rescued me. And then he took me out to dinner… and that was that. In truth, though, he had me as soon as I laid eyes on him, fighting those men.

We'd gotten engaged just over a year later, when I was merely eighteen, and he twenty-four. And then we got married after another year of engagement. His sister planned the wedding, and, once I'd forgiven her for the lavish affair she had put on, became my best friend.

I find that it helps, to think of happier things. It takes my mind off of things. Though I cannot see, the cool dampness of the air gives the impression that we are underground, and I know that even if I were not blindfolded, it would be pitch black. Jack is not blindfolded, and for that I am glad, but they have gagged him. It sickens me to think that these monsters would do such a thing to a child.

I have not even seen their faces; I cannot place the blame. I think that it would help, if I could. I would have someone to hate.

But they made sure that I had my back turned, before I felt the sharp, painful blow to my head. And then the blackness. I had never known darkness so black, not even sleep. There had not even been the tiniest glimmer of white or grey, just pure blackness. I had been unable to move; I had struggled to breathe. Had I been drugged then, too? The sensations were unfamiliar and painful.

And then I had woken up, here. It might have been minutes ago, or hours, or days… there is no sense of time, here. No day or night. There is just darkness.

No-one has come for me. At least—not yet. I have been left alone.

And, just as this thought crosses my mind, a new sound reaches my ears. The sound of a key being turned, bolts being drawn back. I hold Jack closer to me, holding him more for my own personal sanity, than for his protection. What can I do for him?

That hurt.

I am his mother; I am supposed to protect him. And yet, I can not even do that.

As the door creaks open, I turn to face the sound.

"Isabella Swan, I presume…"

The voice is too high, nasally. Had I not been silenced by the gag, I might have said something witty in reply. But I am rendered silent and blind, and can do nothing.

"I'm glad you decided to grace us with your presence… I was rather worried that you would be hard to get hold of… but it was surprisingly easy. I mean, really… surely the President-elect would have better security? But no. Edward made it very easy for us… it was most convenient of him. Remind me to thank him for that…"

A single tear wells in my left eye, catching on the material as it falls. I bow my head, pressing my face into Jack's brown curls.

The voice chuckles darkly. "Now, that is lovely, isn't it? Wonderful."

I hear suddenly, inexplicably—the unmistakeable click of a camera shutter.

"One for the album, I think…"

His voice seems to smirk at me. I choke. The door slams as he leaves again. I cry, holding Jack to me.

Edward, I need you…


End file.
